


Not My Cup of Tea

by Owlwithafringe, WitchoftheWaste



Series: The Merlin Arts Fest [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering, First Kiss, Fluff, Food Fight, Humor, M/M, Old Lady Shippers, Tea Drinking, Tea Snobs, The Merlin Arts Fest 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlwithafringe/pseuds/Owlwithafringe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchoftheWaste/pseuds/WitchoftheWaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a cup of tea out with friends could never be simple, especially when those friends happen to Merlin, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen. </p><p>But when two of them happen to be tea snobs, it's hard to keep your calm, especially when there are so many delicate little sandwiches everywhere, just asking to be thrown in their faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Cup of Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Co-Written with the fabulous **WitchoftheWaste** for The Merlin Arts Fest Week 2, using the the three words prompt and the written prompt. A big thanks for her amazing work, and for agreeing to collab with me!

'Morgana, remind me why you're dragging me off to this horribly posh place again?' Merlin asked, already becoming annoyed by the clickety-clack of Morgana's heels on the pavement. Who wore heels just to go to tea anyway? Merlin wasn't sure Morgana actually owned a pair of shoes that didn't have heels on them. 

They were walking towards the Lanesborough Hotel tearoom, the swankiest place for only the most overly English, ridiculously rich people in London. Which described Morgana and Arthur Pendragon very well. 

'Merlin, darling. I told you. We're celebrating tea.' 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Morgana was probably his best friend in the whole world, which was a little scary when he stopped to think about it, but he never understood her obsession with tea. She could talk about it all day. So could her brother, Arthur. 

'Hasn't it occurred to you that the reason I keep asking about it is because the event doesn't make any sense? And don't call me 'darling', please. It makes me feel like you're my Russian prostitute.' 

Morgana laughed. 'I think if anyone here is going to be a Russian prostitute, it's you.' 

Merlin grinned. 'Please, I would be a high class courtesan. Only you and Arthur could afford me.' He blushed a little, realising what he had just implied. Morgana would be sure to pick up on that. She had this strange idea that Arthur and Merlin were about to leap into bed together. The only thing stranger was that Merlin rather liked the idea. 

'Well, I'll certainly let Arthur know about that, my little cream puff. There, is cream puff better than darling?' Morgana raised an eyebrow at him. 

Merlin felt mildly nauseated. 'Actually, I think it's rather worse,' he said, with a pained expression 

'Oh, shush. We're here,' Morgana said, unnecessarily. She walked up the steps of the Lanesborough, only to be suddenly swept into a hug by the man waiting at the top of the steps. 

At the sight of Merlin's cheeky grin, Arthur quickly released Morgana, and looked a little sheepish. Merlin sighed at the prospect of an entirely too pleasant hour and a half of being manhandled by Arthur and teased by Morgana. 

Arthur was horribly tactile. When he and Merlin had first met there had been cuddling. Cuddling. 

'What are you going to let me know?' Arthur asked, with an easy grin. 

Morgana smirked. 'That Merlin just became available as a high class courtesan. His words, not mine,' she added, adjusting the lace cuffs of her dark green dress. 

'What the f-?' Arthur looked like he might actually explode. 

Merlin gave Morgana a long suffering look. He wished Morgana wouldn't do that to him. All he had to do was put his foot in his mouth once, and she never let him forget it. Not that this had happened only once. 

'Where's Gwen?' Merlin said pitifully. 

Gwen was really the only person who could keep Arthur in check. Merlin liked to think of himself as a cliché best friend, but he had nothing on Gwen. She and Arthur had the most ridiculously text-book best friendship on the planet. They went shopping together, they giggled over silly rom coms and always cried 'ewww!' when asked if they were dating. 

'God, you make it sound as though she's my nurse.' Arthur pouted in an unfairly attractive way, before adding belatedly, 'She's inside, getting us a decent table. Someone,' he glared at Morgana, 'forgot to reserve.'

 

*****

 

Merlin gave another long suffering sigh and nibbled on a tiny smoked salmon sandwich. All the food here was fiddly, and the tea started out too weak, and then suddenly became too strong. Why did Morgana keep insisting on coming here? 

Well, it was a really beautiful room. There was a fountain, and palms, but there were also old ladies, and a little girl in a cream silk dress, crying over a spilt glass of something or rather. 

'Morgana, this cake is stale. And the tea is weird.' Merlin put down the delicate teacup with a clatter. 

'Her tea is weird, because she drinks it black,' Arthur said, reaching for a scone. 

'Just because you drink that strange weak Earl Grey-' 

'Stop it, both of you. Honestly. It's like dealing with squabbling toddlers.' Gwen sighed, a little melodramatically, in Merlin's opinion. 'Besides, I like English Breakfast.' 

'Gwen, we've had this conversation a thousand times-' Arthur began. 

'See, Arthur, at least she likes strong tea-' Morgana started to say. 

They both turned and glowered at each other. 'Don't interrupt me,' they said, in unison. 

'I wasn't interrupting,' Arthur said heatedly. 'I don't know how you can call yourself British when you drink Assam without milk.' 

Morgana drummed her scarily long nails on the table. 'I don't know how you dare call yourself a tea connoisseur, when you drink that slop. True tea buffs don't cloud the drink with milk.' 

Gwen put a hand on Arthur's arm, before he could hurl something at Morgana. 'Stop it, both of you. Last time we were here you got kicked out for lobbing cinnamon buns at each other. Let's not go through that again.' 

Arthur put down the cup cake he had been about to throw at Morgana. Gwen smiled at him beatifically. 'Good boy. We can rewatch 'Pretty in Pink' later, just for that.' Merlin smiled to himself, noticing Arthur trying and failing not to look pleased. 

'Um.. Personally, I like Tetley's,' Merlin said, giving up on whatever dishwater was in his cup, and pushing it away. 

And that's when the Pendragons got really annoyed. 

They both started ranting at him at once, words indistinguishable from the other but it was obvious that they were both going to have an aneurysm if they didn’t calm down. Merlin looked to Gwen helplessly but she just took a delicate sip of her own tea, a small amused smile saying, ‘Not my problem. You got yourself into this mess, now you fix it.’ That complete and utter traitor. 

Merlin looked around awkwardly, hoping there was a black hole nearby that he could hop into. Sadly all he found was the disapproving stares of some of the patrons who’s attention had been caught by the bickering siblings. Excellent. 

'Shut up. You two are going to get us kicked out.' Merlin hissed at Arthur and Morgana, before belatedly adding, 'Again.' That line of argument worked for Gwen, Merlin just hoped it would for him too. 

Morgana didn’t look sheepish, but she had enough brain cells to realise that if that happened again then they probably wouldn’t be allowed back, and enough grace to admit defeat when necessary. Though that’s not to say Merlin had no doubt that she would continue that conversation at a later time, somewhere that he couldn’t escape from it. 

Arthur, of course, had always been lacking a few brain cells and certainly did not understand the concept of grace in defeat, and honestly, Merlin didn’t even know why he bothered. 

'I will not shut up, Merlin!' 

'Arthur, you’re not going to get to watch 'Pretty in Pink' if you keep making such a fool of yourself.' Gwen finally intervened. Merlin thanked his lucky stars, and Gwen for bringing out the big guns so that they could all finally drink their dishwater and leave. However, perhaps Merlin thanked everything a little prematurely. 

'I refuse to calm down, Gwen. 'Pretty in Pink' be damned!' Arthur cried. Apparently it had had the adverse effect this time. Arthur might be willing to surrender an argument when it was a debate about milk but apparently not when it came to brand. 'This is serious! He’s talking about Tetley's!' 

Morgana chimed in then, 'Yes, we all know he’s uncultured, but he does have a point and as hilarious as it would be to have a sandwich fight, they all look rather tasty.' 

'Uncultured?' Arthur argued. 'No, uncultured is too kind a description. He’s a heathen.' 

Merlin could take a lot of things. He could take drinking this shit they called tea. He could take Morgana and Arthur making a show of themselves in public, because let’s face it, it happened every time they went out somewhere. But call him a heathen? Getting thrown out was the least of his worries now. 

'Heathen?' Merlin asked, a cold bite underlying his deceptively calm voice. Both Gwen and Morgana noticed it, going by the concerned looks they were starting to trade, though Morgana seemed a little more blasé about the shit storm that was about to come their way. 

'Yes heathen!' Arthur started, apparently not noticing Merlin’s tone. Probably too caught up in his tea filled delusions. 'You drink that, that revolting slosh they call tea. Tea! It isn't fit for human consumption. You can just buy it in any supermarket. I mean, really Merlin, if you had to pick a supermarket tea, you could have chosen at least something halfway decent. But Tetley's! It's not even a real tea. No history, no taste, no culture!' Arthur's voice rose to a shout on the final word. 

'There is nothing wrong with the tea I drink!' Merlin interrupted angrily, his cool slipping as he stood up from his seat, like his figure was something more imposing than it really was. 

'There’s nothing right about it either.' Arthur replied, standing up to meet Merlin’s stance. Gwen looked like she was ready to become a referee in every sense, at any moment, whilst Morgana nibbled on a cucumber sandwich like it was her version of popcorn. 

Merlin’s eyes narrowed with rage before widening again. A smirk spread across his face, as an idea popped into his head. Merlin leaned down and plucked a sandwich from the table. This was going to be good. 

'Perhaps you should eat something Arthur.' Merlin spoke sweetly. 'You know how argumentative and idiotic you get when you’re hungry.' 

There was a moment of confusion written on Arthur’s face, before realisation hit it, along with an egg and cress sandwich seconds later. 

The entire dining area went completely silent other than the sound of a silver spoon hitting ceramic as it was dropped. Everyone sat, motionless, as Arthur’s breathing got dangerously laboured, his fury building. 

'Why you little.. This suit is Armani, you Tetley drinking savage!' Arthur’s voice boomed around the room. Merlin thought he could hear a whisper of ‘bollocks’ from Gwen, but his attention was focused mainly on Arthur as he stalked towards him. Who wore Armani suits to tea anyway? 

Arthur stood face to face with Merlin for a pause, taking his time to enjoy the moment before smushing a sandwich all over Merlin’s face and then wiping his hand on Merlin’s shirt to clean off any remains. He smiled with satisfaction as he heard fellow customers gasp with shock. One of the old biddies probably fainted too. Serve them right for being so nosy. 

'You didn’t just..' Merlin breathed, not quite comprehending what this clotpole had just done. He glanced at the plate of sandwiches to scavenge more ammunition but clearly Morgana had thought ahead and had the plate shielded in her arms. Good to know where her priorities were. In that case, all he could do was shove Arthur, like a child in the playground. So he did. 

And naturally Arthur shoved back, until they were almost all out wrestling, bashing into tables and making cutlery clatter, almost knocking unsuspecting tea drinkers from their seats. They kept going this way, pulling and pushing until Merlin’s legs hit the back of something. He came to three realisations then: 

One: His legs had just hit the back of the fancy, ornate fountain that he had clocked on his way in. 

Two: He was going to go in whatever happened. Sadly, gravity was not in his favour. 

Three: If he was going down, then he wasn’t going to go alone. 

The next few seconds happened quickly, just as they had been planned. Arthur pushed and Merlin lost his balance, arms flying wildly in the air in some form of trying to claw his way back up. As he began to fall backwards his arms reached in front of him, grabbing onto the lapels of Arthur’s suit and pulling him down with him. 

They landed in a heap in the fountain, getting themselves completely soaked, as well as some of the people nearby. 

Merlin barely noticed the worryingly lukewarm water that he was now submerged in. He was paying slightly more attention to how Arthur was lying on top of him, and how their noses were inches apart. He could smell Arthur's undoubtedly ridiculously expensive cologne, and something underneath it like wood smoke. He could also smell egg and cress sandwich; Arthur did have some egg in his hair, after all. 

Merlin looked up at Arthur; Arthur looked down at him. 'Well,' they whispered, glancing around in worry, 'this might be a problem.' 

And that's when some aggravating old lady put down her lavender crochet and cried. 'Oh, for Christ's sake, just kiss already!' The woman next to her let out a gasp, and Merlin distinctly heard the lavender lady turn and whisper, 'Shut up, Gladys. This is the most exciting thing I've seen in years.' 

Arthur, who was still much too close, and actually seemed to be holding Merlin in the fountain, preventing him from leaving, just raised an eyebrow at Merlin. 'The lady insists, Merlin,' he murmured. 'We can't refuse.' And he closed the distance between them, and kissed Merlin. 

It was warm and nice, sweet, and rather chaste. Arthur tasted like the dishwater tea, but Merlin somehow couldn't bring himself to mind. 

Unfortunately, a waiter chose this extremely inopportune moment to tap Arthur on the shoulder. 'Sir, we do not ask for this in our tearoom. We must respectfully ask you to get out, now. And please stop kissing!' 

Merlin and Arthur ignored him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are appreciated and motivate me to keep writing. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr, at **[Owlwithafringe](http://owlwithafringe.tumblr.com/)**. My ask box is always open so leave a prompt or just come and say hi. You can find WitchoftheWaste on tumblr also, on **top-hat-white-tie-and-tails**.


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